Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, Fred and Tonks and Remus and Sirius would all be alive.

Prologue

Sometimes, she felt as if she could stare at nothing for undetermined amounts of time. There was something in completely emptying her mind and watching the chaos around her slowly blur that gave her an odd sense of peace and clarity.

It was moments like these, she thought, that would ultimately be the demise of her character.

Ever since the passing of her mother she found herself doing absolutely nothing and staring at nothing more often. And that bothered her to no end. She never did nothing. Her hands were always itching to turn pages of an old book, to fiddle with her hair, to write an essay. Now, they lay limply in her lap, motionless, still. It was moments like these where she both admonished herself for her lack of productiveness yet appreciated the quietness that could be found when she drew within. It was an oddly calming sensation, and though she would never admit it, deeply spiritual too.

She glanced briefly at the small clock perched idly on her desk. The hour hand quivered as it struck 9. Curfew would be in an hour and she had yet to patrol. Crankily slipping out of her silent reverie, she slipped on her robe and exited her room with a quiet click of the door. Her feet padded gently against the plush carpet of the common room and she took a minute to look smugly upon the sign that was pinned to the door. Heads.

To be truthfully honest with herself, she didn't particularly mind sharing close quarters with the Head Boy. Draco Malfoy had become a quiet, solemn boy who rarely conversed with anyone except his closest friends (Blaise, Pansy) and who ate his own insults upon developing them. She figured that the war had changed everyone, but she didn't think that he would change this much. It was disturbing.

As she waited impatiently by the door, tapping her foot incessantly against the frame, she pondered about her silent neighbour. Secretly, she had wished for more heated and sparring rows between the two of them. It was a good way to distract her from missing her mother, and to get back at the bloody ferret for all the years of ceaseless taunting. They gave her a wild sense of drive.

I'm certainly going completely barmy, she thought, Malfoy, of all people! Her thoughts were interrupted by the unquestionable Malfoy drawl.

"Granger, tap your foot one more time and I swear to Merlin, I will personally see to hexing each and every one of your shoes. Is that understood?"

Ah, this was more like it.

"Not at all. I don't take orders from snarky ferrets. And had you been here five minutes earlier I wouldn't have started tapping my foot!" she snapped.

The guy had the audacity to smirk! "Suit yourself, Granger." She continued to glare at him darkly from under her lashes. He sighed forcefully. "When you're done eye-fucking me, could we get on with the patrol?"

Spluttering in anger (and a little bit of happiness at the fact that he had reverted somewhat to his normal self), she purposefully stomped out of the dormitory and into the doorway, not waiting to hear his inaudible harrumph.

Although annoyed, she couldn't deny that they worked surprisingly well together (stemming from the fact that they only talked out of necessity and even then it was fairly minimal), and the night passed so quickly she hadn't even realised an hour had gone until they both arrived back at the dorms.

For some strange reason, however, the action of standing in front of the closed door waiting for it to open only did too well to reopen fresh memories of her mother's death. She had stood like this, not four weeks ago, in front of her parent's home, waiting with bated breath as her father opened the door. Her hands trembled as she pushed through the door - had her hands trembled back then too? Sighing inwardly and letting her shoulders slump a little, she walked into the dormitory, her previous thrill from insult sparring disappearing like the window frost on a sunny day.

Harry and Ron had tried their best to get her to talk a little more, to open up a little more, but they didn't understand. Talking about it was like pouring salt over an exposed wound, excruciating to bear and agonising to remember. She didn't blame them though. It was the duty of best friends and all that. They were only boys; it was easy for them to be insensitive.

Ginny had approached the topic with a lot more care and sensitivity. She rarely questioned Hermione, only gave her the occasional sad smile and tight embraces. She took her out more often, forced her to eat properly, and mothered her in the way only Ginny could. It was nice, she thought. That feeling of being looked after, of being taken care of.

Malfoy seemed to notice that she was in a particularly tender mood this evening, and left her to her own thoughts with simply a, "Get some sleep, Granger." She was thankful for his understanding yet irked by his kindness.

Flopping down on her pillow, she let a few stray tears escape.

"Mum," she croaked, "Come back."

He had noticed the way her eyes would fog over as if remembering something from a distant memory. He had noticed her slumped shoulders, tired expression and slower walk. What pained him most (although he would never admit it) was that the fire that he had once seen in her glittering eyes was now replaced by something akin to longing and despair. Her arguments held no spite, her smile was a little forced, and she even appeared to answering fewer questions in class.

What also unnerved him to no end was the fact that he had begun thinking about her more frequently at odd times of the day. It was something to do with the pitiful look she held on her face that made him want to seek her out and shake some fire back into her. He found that in a crowded room, his eyes would somehow drift to search for that unmistakable wild hair, hoping to catch a glimpse of her thin frame.

I'm going insane, he thought, completely insane! This is Granger for Merlin's sake!

And yet, he couldn't help but tell himself that Granger had grown up. He'd seen the changes in her stance, face, hair for the past couple of years. That childish face of hers had matured into something possessing grace and elegance, but with the years, she had somehow lost her smile. She had also grown a considerable amount too; no longer was she trailing behind Potter and Weasel now, her height almost equalled that of Potter's, and that was saying something.

The girl was a complete enigma, and try as he may, he couldn't shake the fact that he no longer despised her and felt a need to understand her instead.

Surprising, but not odd.

The war did things to people that were inexplicable. His father had begun feeling the first pangs of remorse (which surprised him beyond belief), and his mother had taken to becoming a steely woman. And here he was, struggling to accept the fact that he was now concerned with the wellbeing of his prudish neighbour. The startling realisation made him pull a face.

Merlin, I'm going bloody soft.

A faint tapping could be heard and he plastered a scowl over his face and rolled off the bed. Throwing a quick glance at his clock confirmed his suspicions – it was time for patrol and Granger was bloody annoyed at his tardiness.

"Granger, tap your foot one more time and I swear to Merlin, I will personally see to hexing each and every one of your shoes. Is that understood?" he barked.

She threw him a disgusted look, "Not at all. I don't take orders from snarky ferrets. And had you been here five minutes earlier I wouldn't have started tapping my foot!" she snapped.

Smirking in what seemed like triumph (he had gotten the bloody woman angry, that would make any of his days happy), he replied nonchalantly, "Suit yourself, Granger", when she continued to stare at him like he was the very gum beneath her shoes, he sighed forcefully, "When you're done eye-fucking me, could we get on with the patrol?"

At this her cheeks flamed and she spluttered with anger. Managing to somehow regain some dignity and stopping herself from looking like a blundering Ron Weasley, he watched amusedly as she purposefully stomped out the door without another word. He gave himself a silent fist pump and trailed after her stomping footsteps.

The spat did not last long however, and he could quickly see the effects wearing off her faster than it had ever done before. Within minutes she had reverted back to her changed self, head slightly bowed, gratingly silent, and ridiculously efficient. As they turned the last corner of the patrol he stole a glimpse her way and noticed that the foggy, clouded look had gone over her eyes again. Something strange seemed to tighten in his chest as he heard her sigh sharply and rub her eyes. I need to get that checked out, he pondered, I could have a heart attack and die!

As they neared the door to the common room, he noticed that she had stopped in front of the door and was staring at it somewhat strangely. Weird, he mused. Just before he was going to snap some snide response about her not knowing how to open a door, she pushed it open with trembling hands (did he just say trembling?) and entered the common room. She stood still in the middle of the carpet, that foggy look still present in her eyes, and his chest tightened just that bit more when he saw her shoulders slump even further.

Before he could rationalise with himself, his mouth began moving of its own accord."Get some sleep, Granger."

Startled with himself, he quickly turned away and almost sprinted up to his bedroom, both alarmed and surprised with his words of reassurance. Malfoy's did not do sympathy and concern. That much was clear. End of the line. Finished.

Bloody woman, moping about like her mother's dead or something.

But the more he decided against it, the more his body decided to betray him as he found himself traipsing back down to the common room again, standing awkwardly in front of her closed door. He was about to open it and shout some rude remark to her face to make that funny feeling in his chest go away, when he heard a quiet – yet definitely audible – flow of choked words that made him stop in his tracks and reassess the entirety of his stupidity and foolishness.

"Mum. Come back."

A/N: First chapter is up! Read and review, let me know what you think. Hate it? Love it? I want to know!

remitto xx